


Crazy

by AceSpace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Gen, I don't really know - Freeform, Maybe - Freeform, Maybe Romance, Maybe sex, Most characters will only be mentioned, Slow Build, crowley fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-02-11 14:34:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12937323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceSpace/pseuds/AceSpace
Summary: Anna Lee inherits more than just a cottage in the woods from her grandmother. Learning about magic, meeting demons, watching Crowley rise to power.If there is smut it will be it's own chapter, clearly labelled, and easy to skip without missing anything in the story.





	1. Introduction: Witch's Cottage

** Introduction: Witch’s Cottage  **

The lawyer’s office was stuffy - made to attract old money customers. The halls all smelled like fresh cleaned leather couches, expensive whiskey, and old people. Anna rubbed her nose again, but the scent clung to everything and choked out the lavender lotion she was wearing. It was homemade, a final gift from her grandmother before she kicked the bucket. The smell of it usually kept her calm. But suffocating smell of the office, her mother’s designer heel tap, tap, tapping impatiently against the hardwood, and the knowledge that she would never see her grandmother again was becoming overwhelming. Just when Anna couldn’t take it any more, the door to the office popped open.  
“It’s about time.” Her mother huffed and clicked her way past the law firm's oldest named partner - followed by Anna’s brand new stepfather and the aunts and uncles that never visited unless someone was dead. Anna was the last one in. The heavy door shut with a bang.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

“And to my precious Anna Lee,” Everyone paused, looking over at her. Anna snapped out of her daydream and nodded for the lawyer to continue. Anna didn’t care who got what. The things she wanted - the recipe books, the pictures, her grandmother’s collection of love letters - were all things she could sneak away without anyone noticing, “I leave my cottage in the woods - she and Tom here,” The lawyer paused to acknowledge that was himself, “know which one that is. I lso leave her everything inside, the property it sits on, and the bank accounts, Tom knows which ones. To the ones I birthed but never cared for me as their mother…”  
Tom paused with a smirk, “I will warn you, she dictated this section and requested it be read in her exact words,” He cleared his throat and began again, “You ain’t gettin a damned thing, you no good money grubbin ingrates. Furthermore, I had Tom arrange for Anna’s things to be moved, so aint none of you even bother trynna find that cottage. Anna dear, don’t you give them a damn penny!”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

That had been nearly a year ago. Even from the grave, Grandmother Vera had managed to save Anna from her mother one last time. The cottage as Vera had called it was actually a custom build cottage style home - three bedrooms, huge open floorplan, a kitchen to kill for, and a basement. It was in the woods. Alice had taken the 50 acres passed down from their ancestors and torn down the termite ridden shack, cleared the land out, and built this house into it’s own sustainable farm. The linai was lined with potted herbs, the outside of the house surrounded by lavender bushes. In the front circle stood a massive Fraser Fir, the one they had planted together when Anna was 8 years old.  
The last project Anna had was clearing out the basement. It was so full of dusty trunks and ancient books, the shelves decaying under them. It took three days, a good chunk of Anna’s christmas break from teaching, but finally the dust and cobwebs were gone. The books were boxed up while Anna waited for new bookshelves to come in. She cracked open an old trunk. Inside were old bottles of whiskey gently wrapped in thick cloaks. The Bottom of the trunk was littered with hand labelled seed packets, photos, chimes, bits of burnt out candles, what looked like charms. There were old dusty vials of shells. They were labelled, but Anna couldn’t quiet read the swirly letters, the paper yellowed and cracked.  
Underneath the all were ragged journals. Some were just as yellowed and cracked, the leather covers worn down from frequent handlings. Some were still older and harder to read, but Anna could see it was in a language she didn’t understand. Then she spotted one that was newer, the inside was filled with her grandmother’s elegant letters. Pages and pages about colors, smells, herbs, and candles - uses and correspondences. A section was labelled beginner spells. Anna kept flipping - how to whistle up a wind, how to make things grow out of season, self decorating trees, self cleaning homes, self dusting books, and an entire section labelled DARK MAGIC: VERY ADVANCED, DO NOT ATTEMPT. 

An hour and several glasses of whiskey later, Anna was at the end of her driveway burying an altoid box at the crossroads. She laughed and stared up at the stars as she waited. Had her grandmother really believed in all this magic stuff?  
Just when she had forgotten all about the box, she felt the hairs on her arms standing on end and a crisp accent, “Hello, darling.”


	2. Chapter One: Crossroads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Annie and Crowley's first meeting

** Chapter One: Crossroads  **

“Gyah!” Annie scrambled to her feet only to slip on the gravel. One second she was launched backwards and the next she was being tugged forward by her wrists. She came to a stop as she hit something solid and warm. Still drunk, her world swam for a moment. When her head stopped spinning, she glanced up slowly through the hair fallen in her face. Looking down at her with an amused expression was a man she had never seen before. She was held tight against him, one of his arms clamped around her waist, his other hand holding the wrist he had caught her by.   
Her eyes widened and she struggled to get free. His smile widened. _This is how I die, isn’t it?_ she thought just before he released her, dropping her right back on her ass.  
“Shit!” She cursed. She glared at him with all the dignity of a wet cat while he chuckled at her suffering. Finally she managed to get solidly on her feet, fairly sobered by her impending death by serial killer, “Can I help you? Are you lost?”  
In the darkness she could just make out the knowing look in his eyes, “No, not lost at all. I’m here to help you, in a manner of speaking. After all, you called me.” His accent made something inside her tighten and warm. She violently shoved those thoughts down, because strange, well dressed men appearing in the woods were not meant to be attractive.   
“I’m afraid I don’t-” She stopped, her eyes focusing on where she had just buried the little box, “Oh no.No, no, no, no. That can’t… You can’t… Demons don’t-”  
“I assure you, I am quite real.,” His eyes flashed red for but a moment, gleaming in the moonlight, “But you must have believed just a little, or a nice girl like you wouldn’t be out in the woods burying boxes, now would you?”  
“I just thought it was an old family superstition! But if you’re here then that means… that means Grandma really was a witch…”  
“Ah, I see. So you thought you would just play with magic you don’t understand,” He stepped forward and she stepped back, a slow dance between hunter and prey, “Now what should we do about that, hm?”  
She tripped over her own feet again, landing next to the half empty bottle of Glencraig. Crazy as it might be, she held up the bottle and smiled nervously, “How about a drink before you kill me?”

An hour later Annie was folded in on herself in her large cozy armchair. The fire was crackling happily as Crowley poured himself another glass. Her head still spun, but from information instead of alcohol. She had made a deal: Crowley would stay and answer questions as long as the whiskey lasted. No soul involved.  
“Wait, so there are different levels of demons? Like demon hierarchy? With demon jobs?”   
“And branches,” He settled back into the other armchair. He had moved it early to face her more directly, “I am crossroads demon. I make deals - souls for whatever little bother someone thinks will make life all sunshine. Then the crossroads King. As far as crossroads demons go, I’m fairly high ranked. However, it is not the most… glamorous of roles. Then it continues up and up and up until you reach the top, king of hell.”  
“Satan?”  
“Not currently. Azazel is king for now. But before him it was Satan, yes.”  
“So did Azazel kill Satan? Or is Satan just like.. Running around doing whatever Satan does?”  
Crowley chuckled at that, “No. Luckily for you, and me, quite frankly, Satan is locked up in some cage somewhere in Hell.”   
Annie yawned, “Luckily?” Crowley glanced at the clock. It was past two in the morning and Annie was already overloaded with information. She was half asleep as it were.  
“Yes, but that’s a tale for another day, darling.”  
“Wha?” she said groggily. Suddenly it was that much harder for her to keep her eyes open, “But there’s still-”  
“Hush.” 

Annie woke up to the mid morning sun streaming in. The dry taste in her mouth and dull throb in her head made her groan.   
_What a strange dream_  
She sat up a little too quickly. She reached for her phone to check the time. When she did, she noticed a thick paper folded under it, her namely neatly written on the front.

 

_  
Annie Lee,  
Apologies for sending you to bed suddenly. Our deal isn’t finished yet, but I do prefer my audience to be attentive. Call me when you’re ready.  
C.  
 ___


	3. Signed and Sealed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's get one thing clear, Anna Lee would absolutely fuck Crowley in a heartbeat with no regrets. It might not be happening this chapter, but it absolutely will happen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry I'm a trash human when it comes to updating. Honestly, I write one fic until I get stuck on a scene, and then I switch to another. I got really stuck on this scene cause I just couldn't figure it out, so I ended up writing the entire Dumbledore's Army fic and now that I'm stuck right before the Battle at the Ministry (look, I can't handle Sirius dying at my own hands, okay?) I'm back to this fic.

** Chapter Three: Signed and Sealed  **

Anna Lee had spent months reading and rereading every single journal written in English. Only three of them had been Grandma Vera’s, two small ‘every day’ books as they were labelled, and the larger one that she had used to summon Crowley. It looked like the journals had been passed down generation to generation, each witch keeping their own books on what worked best for them. As such, there was a lot of conflicting information.   
Anna had tried one of the beginner cleaning spells the day all the new bookshelves were set up. The mounds of books hadn’t even budged. That’s when she went back through, finding a journal date 1893 that mentioned some Ritual of Light before being able to do magic. The book didn’t say anything else about it, but there was a smudged side note - Sacha, 1093.  
Organized chronologically by author, it wasn’t hard to find the journals. Sacha’s journals took up an entire bookcase on their own - she had written more than any of the others, and Anna guessed that she was the first witch of the family. Unfortunately, Sacha’s journals were not in English. Or anything resembling English. Or any language Anna had studied - not that she spoke any of them fluently. That left her only one option.

This time Anna used a demon summoning for when you wanted a specific demon. The second Crowley appeared, she had a drink in his hand and steered him to one of the comfy chairs. Sitting across from him, she tried to be patient.  
“I almost thought you had forgotten,” Crowley took another slow sip, “Or been scared off.”  
She had been too drunk, and then too tired, last time to notice how he examined her, even while drinking, as though trying to price out her worth. She struggled to keep still, not wanting him to have the satisfaction of watching her squirm.   
Instead, she shook her head, “I was doing some reading. I didn’t want to ask you things that I could learn myself. It seemed like a waste of time.”  
“Smart. So…” and he motioned for her to begin. Anna picked up one of the small well worn leather journals from the side table and handed it to Crowley. It was one of Sacha’s older journals - the illustrations suggested it was an herbalist’s guide, a safe choice to let the demon see.  
“Most of my family’s journals are in whatever language that is.”  
“And you’d like me to? Tell you what it is? Translate it?”  
“What would it cost for you to teach me it?”  
Crowley smirked, pouring more into his glass, “I could just grant you the knowledge. And why stop there? I could give you knowledge of every human language. Immediate. Without all the hard work and the bother.”  
“But that would cost more than I’m willing to pay.” She had leaned close while he spoke, clearly tempted by the possibilities. Or possibly the accent that made them sound so delicious. Now he leaned closer, his mouth tauntingly close to her’s.  
“You may want to get used to the idea, love. A soul is the only way you’ll get the power for these spells.”  
“I want knowledge, Crowley. Maybe knowing magic exists will be enough for me.” She baited him. Something told her the Ritual of Light had nothing to do with selling your soul to a demon. She also highly doubted that Crowley would tell her if there was a way besides that. If she could get him to bet on the long game for her soul, she might get good prices on everything else.  
She could see in his eyes that he was intrigued, “It’s never enough.”

They spent hours negotiating the contract. Anna Lee knew she was playing with fire, but something about this gray area between them was intoxicating. Of course she wasn’t going to sell her soul to him, but he didn’t need to know that just yet. Learning a new language wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it? She just had to make sure that Crowley didn’t put any clause in the contract that could be twisted to make her harm somebody else. If Anna Lee got burned, well that was her own stupid fault.  
Finally finished, she started looking for a pen. She scowled at Crowley when he chuckled, “What? I suppose you just keep pens with you everywhere you go?”  
“Of course not. But I told you before, demons don’t sign deals with contracts.” She knitted her brows, trying to remember what he’d said about demon contracts. She didn’t notice he had moved until he was right in front of her, lifting her chin. She remembered, just as his lips covered hers, forceful and possessive. His thumb left her chin, tracing heavily down her neck until his hand pressed heaving against the base of her neck - not quite grasping, but there. She knew Crowley was drawing this out just to toy with her. Why else would his other hand be pressed to her lower back, pulling her tight against him? Why else would he give that bastard smirk when she gasped at the shock of pure lust that jolted through her at being so thoroughly kissed? What else but his own sadistic teasing amusement would cause him to nip at her lip, forcing his tongue inside her mouth and claiming it for his own?   
She pressed her hands to her cheeks once Crowley pulled away, though whether it was too cool herself or to hide how red she’d gotten, she wasn’t quite sure. Her body thrummed with need and the sudden loss of Crowley’s heat left her dizzy.  
“Tomorrow then, pet. And I won’t go easy on you.”


	4. Business Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley isn't in this chapter until the end.  
> Crowley is entirely in the next chapter. and possibly smut.  
> Scratch that.  
> Definitely smut. 
> 
> If you don't like smut, skip the next chapter, and you will be totally fine.

** Chapter Four: Business Trip  **

It shouldn’t have surprised Anna Lee that Crowley would be a difficult task master. But four hours a day every single day? Not a single day of rest? It was exhausting. What small social life she’d had before was shot to hell and back, no pun intended. She blamed end of year test prep and grading that had fallen by the wayside throughout the school year. He was relentless. Every night, right as she finished cooking dinner, he would just appear. After the second week, she stopped jumping in surprise - a development that earned both a hint of approval and a dash of disappointment. But Crowley soon found new ways to torment her.  
Around week four, Crowley started crowding into her space, little things at first, sitting directly next to her instead of across the coffee table, his thigh pressed against hers, placing his hands on either side of her and looming over her to follow along with her reading, gradually becoming more intimate and intimidating. Eventually, he seemed to tire of standing over her. One day, as he had her reading aloud to him - for pronunciation as she still didn’t understand _what_ she was reading - He sat down on the end of the couch, gripped her by the arm and pulled her so that she laid on top of him, her back against his chest.  
Anna blushed furiously, trying not to think about being between his legs for some _other_ reason, and stuttered to a halt, “Crowley…”  
“Did I say to stop?”  
“Why-”  
“Read.”  
So she continued. She fumbled more words than usual, but Crowley was more patient when amused. He gently corrected the pronunciations as she read, translating at the end of each paragraph, pointing out the most used words. All the while, one arm draped lazily across her waist, the other hand gently running through her hair. At the end of the reading hour, Anna had relaxed into Crowley. Finishing the chapter, she closed the book and listened to Crowley. Her phone chimed the end of their session, so Anna twisted, trying to rise. Instead, she ended up hovering over Crowley, one knee between his thighs, one foot on the ground, a hand above his head and their faces too close together. Anna blushed furiously. It would be so easy to reach down and kiss him now - to see if it would be the same as when they sealed the contract, or if she could goad him into more.  
Crowley smirked, “Need something, love?”  
She shook her head. She rose quickly, busying herself with clearing away Crowley’s glass and her dinner plate, washing them more thoroughly than necessary. Crowley came up behind her slowly, gently brushing her hair away from her neck. Anna leaned back towards him despite herself. She could feel his breath against her skin. He was so close, if only he would-  
“I left a new book on the table. I’ll be gone for a while. I expect you to completely translate it before I return.”  
“How long will-” But he was gone already.

The school year ended a month after Crowley went on his ‘business trip.’ With the excuses of work and grading gone, she was able to actually hang out with her friends during the day - the ones that didn’t work a summer job or two to make ends meet. Anna Lee finished translating the book Crowley had left a month after that - going over and over again to make sure she had it right. With no word from Crowley, she went on to translating the herbology guide she had shown Crowley that first night. She would have finished sooner, but without Crowley to keep her to task, her mind wandered.  
Without the fear that he might somehow read her mind, she let herself indulge in all the fantasies she had suppressed since they had started lessons back in the fall. Imagining Crowley’s hands moving further up her thighs than his usual teasing, or if she had actually kissed him that day on the couch, or, or, or a thousands scenarios played out in her mind until she couldn’t stand it.  
Her phone buzzed obnoxiously and Anna Lee groaned in annoyance. She flipped over onto her stomach, dropping her reading to the floor in her haste to snatch up the phone. It was one of her college friends - reminding her that tonight was their girls night out, if she changed her mind and wanted to go.  
_Fiiiine._ She sighed and texted that she’d be there. She could admit that she was a definite home body, didn’t particularly like going out. But she was just so tired of hanging out and waiting when she hadn’t a single clue when Crowley would return. So in one hour her makeup was killer. In two she’d was ready to go. She tossed on her favorite heels - four inch tall, made of metal and thick. She had never learned to walk in stilettos, preferring the support that the chunky heels afforded. The heels combined with the lace pencil skirt forced her to walk slowly, her hips swaying tauntingly.

The nightclub lights pulsed to the music. Filled with excitement from seeing her girl friends for the first time it what felt like forever, she drank way more than she should have. She wasn’t sloppy. But she had let down her guard to the point that she was actually dancing at on the floor. She didn’t think twice when a pair of strong hands settled on her hips. She rocked back against the new comer, feeling his body press against hers. She couldn’t tell if her heart was hammering from the music, the shots, or the excitement. Probably all three. The two made their way to the bar and ordered shots. Her head spun pleasantly, her new friend’s tongue picking up the drop of tequila that sat on her lips. Anna pressed her mouth against his. His hands grasped her hips, pulling her tight against him. His fingers dipped below the band of her skirt, teasing the skin there.  
Anna wanted more. She wanted the possessiveness that she had been craving, the hand on her throat, and all the promises that went with it. But she couldn’t have that. So this would have to do.  
Her friends poured her into a cab before she could get herself into any real trouble. Anna Lee texted them on the way home, telling them how much fun she had and thanking them for convincing her to go out. The ride back to the cottage was long enough that she was mostly sober. She sobered right up when she noticed the lights were on in her living room. She could have sworn she’d turned them off, unless… The lock clicked open before she could get the key in, and the door slowly swung open.  
She heard Crowley’s voice drift from the living room, ‘You’re very late, kitten.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you wonder what her house looks lie, here's the inspiration I used:  
> https://www.houseplans.com/plan/2091-square-feet-3-bedrooms-2-5-bathroom-cottage-house-plans-2-garage-33831

**Author's Note:**

> This story came to me while I was listening to some classic country - but I promise I will not be filling this fic with country lyrics!


End file.
